1857

SOUTHERN TOUR

In 1857 Miss Mitchell made a tour in the South, having under her charge the young daughter of a Western banker.

"March 2, 1857. I left Meadville this morning at six o'clock, in a stage-coach for Erie. I had, early in life, a love for staging, but it is fast dying out. Nine hours over a rough road are enough to root out the most passionate love of that kind.

"Our stage was well filled, but in spite of the solid base we occasionally found ourselves bumping up against the roof or falling forward upon our opposite neighbors.

"Stage-coaches are, I believe, always the arena for political debate. To-day we were all on one side, all Buchanan men, and yet all anti-slavery. It seemed reasonable, as they said, that the South should cease to push the slave question in regard to Kansas, now that it has elected its President.

"When I took the stage out to Meadville on the 'mud-road,' it was filled with Fremont men, and they seemed to me more able men, though they were no younger and no more cultivated.

"March 5. I believe any one might travel from Maine to Georgia and be perfectly ignorant of the route, and yet be well taken care of, mainly from the good-nature in every one.

"I found from Nantucket to Chicago more attention than I desired. I had a short seat in one of the cars, through the night. I did not think it large enough for two, and so coiled myself up and went to sleep. There were men standing all around. Once one of them came along and said something about there being room for him on my seat. Another man said, 'She's asleep, don't disturb her.' I was too selfish to offer the half of a short seat, and too tired to reason about the man's being, possibly, more tired than I.

"I was invariably offered the seat near the window that I might lean against the side of the car, and one gentleman threw his shawl across my knees to keep me warm (I was suffering with heat at the time!). Another, seeing me going to Chicago alone, warned me to beware of the impositions of hack-drivers; telling me that I must pay two dollars if I did not make a bargain beforehand. I found it true, for I paid one dollar for going a few steps only.

"One peculiarity in travelling from East to West is, that you lose the old men. In the cars in New England you see white-headed men, and I kept one in the train up to New York, and one of grayish-tinted hair as far as Erie; but after Cleveland, no man was over forty years old.

"For hundreds of miles the prairie land stretches on the Illinois Central Railroad between Chicago and St. Louis. It may be pleasant in summer, but it is a dreary waste in winter. The space is too broad and too uniform to have beauty. The girdle of trees would be pretty, doubtless, if seen near, but in the distance and in winter it is only a black border to a brown plain.

"The State of Illinois must be capitally adapted to railroads on account of this level, and but little danger can threaten a train from running off of the track, as it might run on the soil nearly as well as on the rails.

"Our engine was uncoupled, and had gone on for nearly half a mile without the cars before the conductor perceived it.

"The time from Chicago to St. Louis is called fifteen hours and a quarter; we made it twenty-three.

"If the prairie land is good farming-land, Illinois is destined to be a great State. If its people will think less of the dollar and more of the refinements of social life and the culture of the mind, it may become the great State of the Union yet.

"March 12. Planter's Hotel, St. Louis. We visited Mercantile Hall and the Library. The lecture-room is very spacious and very pretty. No gallery hides the frescoed walls, and no painful economy has been made of the space on the floor.

"13th. I begin to perceive the commerce of St. Louis. We went upon the levee this morning, and for miles the edge was bordered with the pipes of steamboats, standing like a picket-fence. Then we came to the wholesale streets, and saw the immense stores for dry-goods and crockery.

"To-day I have heard of a scientific association called the 'Scientific Academy of St. Louis,' which is about a year old, and which is about to publish a volume of transactions, containing an account of an artesian well, and of some inscriptions just sent home from Nineveh, which Mr. Gust. Seyffarth has deciphered.

"Mr. Seyffarth must be a remarkable man; he has translated a great many inscriptions, and is said to surpass Champollion. He has published a work on Egyptian astronomy, but no copy is in this country.

"Dr. Pope, who called on me, and with whom I was much pleased, told me of all these things. Western men are so proud of their cities that they spare no pains to make a person from the Eastern States understand the resources, and hopes, and plans of their part of the land.

"Rev. Dr. Eliot I have not seen. He is about to establish a university here, for which he has already $100,000, and the academic part is already in a state of activity.

"Rev. Mr. Staples tells me that Dr. Eliot puts his hands into the pockets of his parishioners, who are rich, up to the elbows.

"Altogether, St. Louis is a growing place, and the West has a large hand and a strong grasp.

"Doctor Seyffarth is a man of more than sixty years, gray-haired, healthy-looking, and pleasant in manners. He has spent long years of labor in deciphering the inscriptions found upon ancient pillars, Egyptian and Arabic, dating five thousand years before Christ. I asked him if he found the observations continuous, and he said that he did not, but that they seem to be astrological pictures of the configuration of the planets, and to have been made at the birth of princes.

"He has just been reading the slabs sent from Nineveh by Mr. Marsh; their date is only about five hundred years B.C.

"Mr. Seyffarth's published works amount to seventy, and he was surprised to find a whole set of them in the Astor Library in New York.

"March 19. We came on board of the steamer 'Magnolia,' this morning, in great spirits. We were a little late, and Miss S. rushed on board as if she had only New Orleans in view. I followed a little more slowly, and the brigadier-general came after, in a sober and dignified manner.

"We were scarcely on board when the plank was pulled in, and a few minutes passed and we were afloat on the Mississippi river. Miss S. and myself were the only lady passengers; we had, therefore, the whole range of staterooms from which to choose. Each could have a stateroom to herself, and we talked in admiration of the pleasant times we should have, watching the scenery from the stateroom windows, or from the saloon, reading, etc.

"We started off finely. I, who had been used only to the rough waters of the Atlantic coast, was surprised at the steady gliding of the boat. I saw nothing of the mingling of the waters of the Missouri and the Mississippi of which I had been told. Perhaps I needed somebody to point out the difference.

"The two banks of the river were at first much alike, but after a few hours the left bank became more hilly, and at intervals presented bluffs and rocks, rude and irregular in shape, which we imagined to be ruins of some old castle.

"At intervals, too, we passed steamers going up to St. Louis, all laden with passengers. We exulted in our majestic march over the waters. I thought it the very perfection of travelling, and wished that all my family and all my friends were on board.

"I wondered at the stupidity of the rest of the world, and thought that they ought all to leave the marts of business, to step from the desk, the counting-room, and the workshop on board the 'Magnolia,' and go down the length of the 'Father of Waters.'

"And so they would, I suppose, but for sand-bars. Here we are five hours out, and fast aground! We were just at dinner, the captain making himself agreeable, the dinner showing itself to be good, when a peculiar motion of the boat made the captain heave a sigh—he had been heaving the lead all the morning. 'Ah,' he said, 'just what I feared; we've got to one of those bad places, and we are rubbing the bottom.'

"I asked very innocently if we must wait for the tide, and was informed that there was no tide felt on this part of the river. Miss S. turned a little pale, and showed a loss of appetite. I was a little bit moved, but kept it to myself and ate on.

"As soon as dinner was over, we went out to look at the prospect of affairs. We were close into the land, and could be put on shore any minute; the captain had sent round a little boat to sound the waters, and the report brought back was of shallow water just ahead of us, but more on the right and left.

"While we stood on deck a small boat passed, and a sailor very gleefully called out the soundings as he threw the lead, 'Eight and a half-nine.'

"But we are still high and dry now at two o'clock P.M. They are shaking the steamer, and making efforts to move her. They say if she gets over this, there is no worse place for her to meet.

"I asked the captain of what the bottom is composed, and he says, 'Of mud, rocks, snags, and everything.'

"He is now moving very cautiously, and the boat has an unpleasant tremulous motion.

"March 20. Latitude about thirty-eight degrees. We are just where we stopped at noon yesterday—there is no change, and of course no event. One of our crew killed a 'possum yesterday, and another boat stopped near us this morning, and seems likely to lie as long as we do on the sand-bar.

"We read Shakspere this morning after breakfast, and then betook ourselves to the wheel-house to look at the scenery again. While there a little colored boy came to us bearing a waiter of oranges, and telling us that the captain sent them with his compliments. We ate them greedily, because we had nothing else to do.

"21st. Still the sand-bar. No hope of getting off. We heard the pilot hail a steamboat which was going up to St. Louis, and tell them to send on a lighter, and I suppose we must wait for that…. It is my private opinion that this great boat will not get off at all, but will lie here until she petrifies….

"March 24. We left the 'Magnolia' after four days and four hours upon the sand-bar near Turkey island, upon seeing the 'Woodruff' approach. We left in a little rowboat, and it seemed at first as if we could not overtake the steamer; but the captain saw us and slackened his speed.

"Miss S. and I clutched hands in a little terror as our small boat seemed likely to run under the great steamer, but our oarsmen knew their duty and we were safely put on board of the 'Woodruff.'

"March 25. We stopped at Cairo at eight o'clock this morning. Mr. S. went on shore and brought newspapers on board. The Cairo paper I do not think of high order. I saw no mention in it of the detention of the 'Magnolia'!

"March 26. Yesterday we count as a day of events. It began to look sunny on the banks, especially on the Kentucky side, and Miss S. and I saw cherry-blossoms. We remembered the eclipse, and Mr. S. having brought with him a piece of broken glass from one of the windows of the 'Magnolia,' I smoked it over a piece of candle which I had brought from Room No. 22 of the Planter's House at St. Louis, and we prepared to see the eclipse.

"I expected to see the moon on at five o'clock and twenty minutes, but as I had no time I could not tell when to look for it.

"It was not on at that time by my watch, but in ten minutes after was so far on that I think my time cannot be much wrong.

"It was a little cloudy, so that we saw the sun only 'all flecked with bars,' and caught sight of the phenomenon at intervals.

"We were at a coal-landing at the time, and not far from Madrid. The boat stopped so long to take in an immense pile of corn-bags that our passengers went on shore—such of them as could climb the slippery bank.

"When we saw them coming back laden with peach-blossoms, and saw the little children dressing their hats with them, we were seized with a longing for them, and Mr. S. offered to go and get us some; we begged to go too, but he objected.

"We were really envious of his good luck when we saw him jump into a country wagon, drawn by oxen which trotted off like horses, and, waving his handkerchief to us, ride off in great glee. He came back with an armful of peach-tree branches. Whose orchard he robbed at our instigation I cannot say. A little girl, the daughter of the captain, pulled some blossoms open, and showed us that the fruit germs were not dead, but would have become peaches if we had not coveted them.

"The 25th was also our first night steam-boating. After passing Cairo the river is considered safe for night travel, and the boat started on her way at 8.30 P.M. We had been out about half an hour when a lady who was playing cards threw down her cards and rushed with a shriek to her stateroom. I perceived then that there had been a peculiar motion to the boat and that it suddenly stopped. We found that one of the paddle-wheels was caught in a snag, but there was no harm done. It made us a little nervous, but we slept well enough after it.

"When I look out upon the river, I wonder that boats are not continually snagged. Little trees are sticking up on all sides, and sometimes we seem to be going over a meadow and pushing among rushes.

"A yawl, which was sent out yesterday to sound, was snagged by a stump which was high out of water; probably they were carried on to it by a current. The little boat whirled round and round, and the men were plainly frightened, for they dropped their oars and clutched the sides of the boat. They got control, however, in a few minutes, and had the jeers of the men left on the steamer for their pains.

"March 30. We stopped at Natchez before breakfast this morning, and, having half an hour, we took a carriage and drove through the city. It was like driving through a succession of gardens: roses were hanging over the fences in the richest profusion, and the arbor-vitae was ornamenting every little nook, and adorning every cottage.

"Natchez stands on a high bluff, very romantic in appearance; jagged and rugged, as if volcanoes had been at work in a time long past, for tall trees grew in the ravines.

"Most of our lady passengers are, like ourselves, on a tour of pleasure; six of them go with us to the St. Charles Hotel. Some are from Keokuk, Ia., and I think I like these the best. One young lady goes ashore to spend some time on a plantation, as a governess. She looks feeble, and we all pity her.

"To-day we pass among plantations on both sides of the river. We begin to see the live-oak—a noble tree. The foliage is so thick and dark that I have learned to know it by its color. The magnolia trees, too, are becoming fragrant.

"March 31. We are at length in New Orleans, and up three flights at the
St. Charles, in a dark room.

"The peculiarities of the city dawn upon me very slowly. I first noticed the showy dress of the children, then the turbaned heads of the black women in the streets, and next the bouquet-selling boys with their French phrases.

"April 3. This morning we went to a slave market. It looked on first entrance like an intelligence office. Men, women, and children were seated on long benches parallel with each other. All rose at our entrance, and continued standing while we were there. We were told by the traders to walk up and down the passage between them, and talk with them as we liked. As Mr. S. passed the men, several lifted their hands and said, 'Here's the boy that will suit you; I can do any kind of work.' Some advertised themselves with a good deal of tact. One woman pulled at my shawl and asked me to buy her. I told her that I was not a housekeeper. 'Not married?' she asked.—'No.'—'Well, then, get married and buy me and my husband.'

"There was a girl among them whiter than I, who roused my sympathies very much. I could not speak to her, for the past and the future were too plainly told in her face. I spoke to another, a bright-looking girl of twelve. 'Where were you raised?'—'In Kentucky.'—'And why are you to be sold?'—'The trader came to Kentucky, bought me, and brought me here.' I thought what right had I to be homesick, when that poor girl had left all her kindred for life without her consent.

"I could hold my tongue and look around without much outward show of disgust, but to talk pleasantly to the trader I could not consent. He told me that he had been brought up in the business, but he thought it a pity.

"No buyers were present, so there was no examination that was painful to look upon.

"The slaves were intelligent-looking, and very healthy and neat in appearance. Those who belonged to one owner were dressed alike—some in striped pink and white dresses, others in plaid, all a little showy. The men were in thick trousers and coarse dark-blue jackets.

"April 5. We have been this morning to a negro church. We found it a miserable-looking house, mostly unpainted and unplastered, but well filled with the swarthy faces. They were singing when we entered; we were pointed to a good seat.

"There may have been fifty persons present, all well dressed; the women in the fanciful checkered headdresses so much favored by the negro race, the men in clean collars, nankin trousers, and dark coats. All showed that they were well kept and well fed.

"The audience was increased by new comers frequently, and these, whatever the exercise might be, shook hands with those around them as they seated themselves, and joined immediately in the services. The singing was by the whole congregation, the minister lining out the hymns as in the early times in New England.

"Several persons carried on the exercises from the pulpit, and in the prayers and sermon the audience took an active part, responding in groans, 'Oh, yes,' or 'Amen,' sometimes performing a kind of chant to accompany the words…. A negro minister said in his prayer, 'O God, we are not for much talking.' I was delighted at the prospect of a short discourse, but I found his 'not much talking' exactly corresponded to 'a good deal' in my use of words. He talked for a full hour.

"There was something pleasing in the earnestness of the preacher and the sympathetic feeling of the audience, but their peculiar condition was not alluded to, and probably was not felt.

"The discourse was almost ludicrous at times, and at times was pathetic.
I saved up a few specimens:

"'O God, you have said that where one or two are gathered together in your name, there will you be; if anything stands between us that you can't come, put it aside.'

"'God wants a kingdom upon earth with which he can coin-cide, and that kingdom are your heart.'

"'God is near you when you are at the wash-tub or the ironing-table.'

"'Brethren, I thought last Sabbath I wouldn't live to this; a man gets such a notion sometimes.'

"April 9, Alabama River. Some lessons we of the North might learn from the South, and one is a greater regard for human life. I asked the captain of our boat if they had any accidents in these waters. He said, 'We don't kill people at the South, we gave that up some years ago; we leave it to the North, and the North seems to be capable of doing it.'

"The reason for this is, that they are in no hurry. The Southern character is opposed to haste. Safety is of more worth than speed, and there is no hurry.

"Every one at the South introduces its 'peculiar institution' into conversation.

"They talk as I expected Southern people of intelligence to talk; they lament the evil, and say, 'It is upon us, what can we do? To give them freedom would be cruel.'

"Southerners fall back upon the Bible at once; there is more of the old-fashioned religion at the South than at the North; that is, they are not intellectual religionists. They are shocked by the irreligion of Massachusetts, and by Theodore Parker. They read the Bible, and can quote it; they are ready with it as an argument at every turn. I am of course not used to the warfare, and so withdraw from the fight.

"One argument which three persons have brought up to me is the superior condition of the blacks now, to what it would have been had their parents remained in Africa, and they been children of the soil. I make no answer to this, for if this is an argument, it would be our duty to enslave the heathen, instead of attempting to enlighten them.

"We hear some anecdotes which are amusing. A Judge Smith, of South Carolina, moved to Alabama, and became a prominent man there. He was sent to the Senate. He was violently opposed by a young man who said that but for his gray hair he would challenge him. Judge Smith said, 'You are not the first coward who has taken shelter beneath my gray hairs.'

"The same Judge Smith, when a proposition came before the Senate to build a State penitentiary, said, 'Wall in the city of Mobile; you will have your penitentiary and its inmates.'

"So far I have found it easier to travel without an escort South and West than at the North; that is, I have more care taken of me. Every one is courteous, too, in speech. I know that they cannot love Massachusetts, but they are careful not to wound my feelings. They acknowledge it to be the great State in education; they point to a pretty village and say, 'Almost as neat as a New England village.'

"Savannah, April 15…. To-day we left town at ten o'clock for a drive in any direction that we liked. Mr. F. and I went in a buggy, and Miss S. cantered behind us on her horse.

"The road that we took led to some rice plantations ten miles out of the city. Our path was ornamented by the live-oaks, cedar trees, the dogwood, and occasionally the mistletoe, and enlivened sometimes by the whistle of the mocking-bird. Down low by the wheels grew the wild azalea and the jessamine. Above our heads the Spanish moss hung from the trees in beautiful drapery.

"By mistake we drove into the plantation grounds of Mr. Gibbons, a man of wealth, who is seldom on his lands, and where the avenues are therefore a little wild, and the roads a little rough.

"We came afterwards upon a road leading under the most magnificent oaks that I ever saw. I felt as if I were under the arched roof of some ancient cathedral.

"The trees were irregularly grouped and of immense size, throwing their hundreds of arms far upon the background of heaven, and bearing the drapery of the Spanish moss fold upon fold, as if they sought to keep their raiment from touching the earth. I was perfectly delighted, and think it the finest picture I have yet seen.

"Retracing our steps, we sought the plantation of Mr. Potter—a very different one from that of Mr. Gibbons, as all was finish and neatness; a fine mansion well stored with books, and some fine oaks, some of which Mr. Potter had planted himself.

"Mr. Potter walked through the fields with us, and, stopping among the negro huts, he said to a little boy, 'Call the children and give us some singing.' The little boy ran off, shouting, 'Come and sing for massa;' and in a few minutes the little darkies might be seen running through the fields and tumbling over the fences in their anxiety to get to us, to the number of eighteen.

"They sat upon the ground around us and began their song. The boy who led sang 'Early in the Morning,' and the other seventeen brought in a chorus of 'Let us think of Jesus.' Then the leader set up something about 'God Almicha,' to which the others brought in another chorus.

"They were a dirty and shabby looking set, but as usual fat, even to the little babies, whom the larger boys were tending. One little girl as she passed Mr. Potter carelessly put her hand in his and said, 'Good morning, massa.'

"Mrs. G. tells me an anecdote which shows the Southern sentiment on the one subject. The ladies of Charleston were much pleased with Miss Murray, and got up for her what they called a Murray testimonial, a collection of divers pretty things made by their own hands. The large box was ready to be sent to England, but alas for Miss Murray! While they were debating in what way it should be sent to ensure its reaching her without cost to herself, in an unwise moment she sent twenty-five dollars to 'Bleeding Kansas,' and the fit of good feeling towards her ebbed; the 'testimonial' remains unsent.

"April 23, Charleston. This place is somewhat like Boston in its narrow streets, but unlike Boston in being quiet; as is all the South. Quiet and moderation seem to be the attributes of Southern cities. You need not hurry to a boat for fear it will leave at the hour appointed; it never does.

"We took a carriage and drove along the Battery. The snuff of salt air did me good.

"Then we went on to a garden of roses, owned and cultivated by a colored woman. She has some twenty acres devoted to flowers and vegetables, and she owns twenty 'niggers.' The universal term for slaves is 'niggers.' 'Nigger, bring that horse,' 'Nigger, get out of the way,' will be said by the finest gentleman, and 'My niggers' is said by every one.

"I do not believe that the slaves are badly treated; there may be cases of it, but I have seen them only sleek, fat, and lazy.

"The old buildings of Charleston please me exceedingly. The houses are built of brick, standing end to the street, three stories in height, with piazza above piazza at the side; with flower gardens around, and magnolias at the gates; the winding steps to the mansions festooned with roses.

"I have just called on Miss Rutledge, who lives in the second oldest house in the city; herself a fine specimen of antiquity, in her double-ruffled cap and plaided black dress; she chatted away like a young person, using the good old English.

"April 26. To-day Mr. Capers called on me. I was pleased with the account he gave me of his college life, and of a meeting held by his class thirty years after they graduated. Some thirty of them assembled at the Revere House in Boston; they spread a table with viands from all sections of the country. Mr. Capers sent watermelons, and another gentleman from Kentucky sent the wines of his State.

"They sat late at table; they renewed the old friendships and talked over college scenes, and when it was near midnight some one proposed that each should give a sketch of his life, so they went through in alphabetical order.

"Adams was the first. He said, 'You all remember how I waited upon table in commons. You know that I afterwards went through college, but you do not know that to this man [and he pointed to a classmate] I was indebted for the money that paid for my college course.'

"Anderson was the second, and he told of his two wives: of the first, much; of the second, little. Bowditch came next, and he said he would tell of Anderson's second wife, who was a Miss Lockworth, of Lexington, Ky.

"Anderson, a widower, and his brother went to Lexington, carrying with them a letter of introduction to the father of the young lady.

"While the brother was making an elaborate toilet, Anderson strolled out, and came, in his walk, upon a beautiful residence, and saw, within the enclosure, some inviting grounds. He stopped and spoke to the porter, and found it was Mr. Lockworth's. He told the porter that he had letters to Mr. Lockworth, and was intending to call upon him. The porter was very communicative, and told him a good deal. Anderson asked if there were not a pretty daughter. The porter asked him to walk around. As he entered the gate he reached a dollar to the man, and, being much pleased, when he came out he reached the porter another dollar.

"Anderson went back to the hotel, told his brother about it, and they set out together to deliver the letter. The brother knew Mr. Lockworth, and as they met him in the parlor, he walked up, shook hands with him, and asked to present his brother, Lars Anderson. 'No introduction is necessary,' said Mr. Lockworth; and putting his hand into his pocket, drawing out the two dollars, he added, 'I am already in your debt just this sum!' The 'pretty daughter' was sitting upon the sofa.

"Mr. Capers told me that their autobiographies drew smiles and tears alternately; they continued till one o'clock; then one of the class said, 'Brothers, do you know that not a wineglass has yet been turned up, not a drop of wine drunk? And all were at once so impressed with the conviction that they had all been lifted above the needs of the flesh that they refused to drink, and one of the clergymen of the class kneeling in prayer, they all knelt at once, even to some idle spectators who were looking on.

"April 28. Nothing can exceed the hospitality shown to us. We have several invitations for each day, and calls without limit.

"I had heard Mrs. Holbrook described as a wonder, and I found her a very pleasing woman, all ready to talk, and talking with a richness of expression which shows a full mind. Mrs. Holbrook was a Rutledge, and it was amusing, after seeing her, to open Miss Bremer's 'Homes of the New World,' and read her extravagant comments. Miss Bremer was certainly made happy at Belmont.

"April 29. To-day I have been to see Miss Pinckney. She is the last representative of her name, is over eighty, and still retains the animation of youth, though somewhat shaken in her physical strength by age. I found her sitting in an armchair, her feet resting upon a cushion, surrounded by some half-dozen callers.

"She rose at once when I entered, and insisted upon my occupying her seat, while she took a less comfortable one.

"The walls of the room were ornamented with portraits of Major-General
Pinckney by Stuart, Stuart's Washington, one by Morris of General Thomas
Pinckney, and a portrait of Miss Pinckney's mother.

"Miss Pinckney is a very plain woman, but much beloved for her benevolence.

"It is said that on looking over her diary which she keeps, recording the reasons for her many gifts to her friends and to her slaves, such entries as these will be found:

"'$—— to Mary, because she is married.'

"'$—— to Julia, because she has no husband.'

"Miss Pinckney showed me among her centre-table ornaments a miniature of Washington; one of her grandmother, of exceeding beauty; one of each of the Pinckneys whose portraits are on the walls.

"Charleston is full of ante-Revolution houses, and they please me. They were built when there was no hurry; they were built to last, and they have lasted, and will yet last for the children of their present possessors.

"Nothing can be happier in expression than the faces of the colored children. They have what must be the ease of the lower classes in a despotic country. The slaves have no care, no ambition; their place is a fixed one—they know it, and take all the good they can get. The children are fat, sleek, and, inheriting no nervous longings from their parents, are on a constant grin—at play with loud laughs and high leaps.

"May 1. It does not follow because the slaves are sleek and fat and really happy—for happy I believe they are—that slavery is not an evil; and the great evil is, as I always supposed, in the effect upon the whites. The few Southern gentlemen that I know interest me from their courtesy, agreeable manners, and ready speech. They also strike me as childlike and fussy. I catch myself feeling that I am the man and they are women; and I see this even in the captain of a steamer. Then they all like to talk sentiment—their religion is a feeling.

"May 2. The negroes are remarkable for their courtesy of manner. Those who belong to good families seem to pride themselves upon their dress and style.

"A lady walking in Charleston is never jostled by black or white man. The white man steps out of her way, the black man does this and touches his hat. The black woman bows—she is distinguished by her neat dress, her clean plaid head-dress, and her upright carriage. It would be well for some of our young ladies to carry burdens on their heads, even to the risk of flattening the instep, if by that means they could get the straight back of a slave.

"Mrs. W., who takes us out to drive, comes with her black coachman and a little boy. The coachman wears white gloves, and looks like a gentleman. The little boy rings door-bells when we stop.

"When it rained the other day, Mrs. W. dropped the window of the carriage, and desired the two to put on their shawls, for fear they would take cold. They are plainly a great care to their owners, for they are like children and cannot take care of themselves; and yet in another way the masters are like children, from the constant waiting upon that they receive. One would think, where one class does all the thinking and the other all the working, that masters would be active thinkers and slaves ready workers; but neither result seems to happen—both are listless and inactive.

"May 3. I asked Miss Pinckney to-day if she remembered George Washington. She and Mrs. Poinsett spoke at once. "'Oh, yes, we were children,' said Mrs. Poinsett; 'but my father would have him come to see us, and he took each of us in his arms and kissed us; and at another time we went to Mt. Vernon and made him a visit.'

"Never were more intelligent old ladies than Mrs. Poinsett and Miss Pinckney. The latter stepped around like a young girl, and brought a heavy book to show me the sketch of her sister, Marie Henrietta Pinckney, who, in the nullification time of 1830, wrote a pamphlet in defence of the State.

"Miss Pinckney's father was the originator of the celebrated maxim, 'Millions for defence, but not one cent for tribute.' Their house was the headquarters for the nullifiers, and they had serenades, she said, without number.

"It was pleasant to hear the old ladies chatter away, and it was interesting to think of the distinguished men who had been under that roof, and of the cultivated and beautiful women who had adorned the mansion.

"Miss Pinckney, when I left, followed me to the door, and put into my hands an elegant little volume of poems, called 'Reliquiai.'

"They seem to be simple effusions of some person who died early.

"May 9. We left Charleston, its old houses and its good people, on
Monday, and reached Augusta the same day.

"Augusta is prettily laid out, but the place is of little interest; and for the hotel where we stayed, I can only give this advice to its inmates: 'Don't examine a black spot upon your pillow-case; go to sleep at once, and keep asleep if you can.'

"When we were on the road from Augusta to Atlanta, the conductor said, 'If you are going on to Nashville, you will be on the road in the night; people don't love to go on that road in the night. I don't know why.'

"When we came to the Nashville road, I thought that I knew 'why.' The road runs around the base of a mountain, while directly beneath it, at a great depth, runs a river. A dash off the track on one side would be against the mountain, on the other side would be into the river, while the sharp turns seem to invite such a catastrophe. When we were somewhat wrought up to a nervous excitement, the cars would plunge into the darkness of a tunnel—darkness such as I almost felt.

"It was a picturesque but weary ride, and we were tired and hungry when we reached Nashville.

"May 11. To-day we have been out for a two-hours' drive. It is warm, cloudy, and looks like a tempest; we are too tired for much effort.

"Mrs. Fogg, of Nashville, took us to call on the widow of President Polk. We found her at home, though apparently just ready for a walk. She is still in mourning, and tells me that she has not travelled fifty miles from home in the last eight years.

"She spoke to me of Governor Briggs (of Massachusetts), an old friend; of Professor Hare; and said that among her cards, on her return from a journey some years ago, she found Charles Sumner's; and forgetting at the moment who he was, she asked the servant who he was. 'The Abolitionist Senator from Massachusetts—I asked him in,' was the reply.

"Mrs. Polk talks readily, is handsome, elegant in figure, and shows at once that she is well read. She told me that she reads all the newspaper reports of the progress of science. She lives simply, as any New England woman would, though her house is larger than most private residences.

"Mrs. Fogg told me many anecdotes of Dorothea Dix. That lady was, at one time, travelling alone, and was obliged to stop at some little village tavern. As she lay half asleep upon the sofa, the driver of the stage in which she was to take passage came into the room, approached her, and held a light to her closed eyes. She did not dare to move nor utter a sound, but when he turned away she opened her eyes and watched him. He went to the mail-bags, opened them, took out the letters, hastily broke the seals, took out money enclosed, put it into his pocket, closed the bags, and again approached her with his lamp. She shut her eyes and pretended to sleep again; then at the proper time entered the stage and pursued her journey. At the end of the journey she reported his conduct to the proper authorities.

"I was a little doubtful about the propriety of going to the Mammoth Cave without a gentleman escort, but if two ladies travel alone they must have the courage of men. So I called the landlord as soon as we arrived at the Cave House, and asked if we could have Mat, who I had been told was the best guide now that Stephen is ill. The landlord promised Mat to me for two days. After dinner we made our first attempt.

"The ground descends for some two hundred feet towards the mouth of the cave; then you come to a low hill, and you descend through a small aperture not at all imposing, in front of which trickles a little stream. For some little while we needed no light, but soon the guide lighted and gave to each of us a little lamp. Mat took the lead, I came next, Miss S. followed, and an old slave brought up in the rear.

"I confess that I shuddered as I came into the darkness. Our lamps, of course, gave but feeble light; we barely saw at first where our feet must step.

"I looked up, trying in vain to find the ceiling or the walls. All was darkness. In about an hour we saw more clearly. The chambers are, many of them, elliptical in shape; the ceiling is of mixed dark and white color, and looks much like the sky on a cloudy moonlight evening.

"A friend of ours, who has been much in the cave, says, 'If the top were lifted off, and the whole were exposed to view, no woman would ever enter it again.'

"We clambered over heaps of rocks, we descended ladders, wound through narrow passages, passed along chambers so low that we crouched for the whole length, entered upon lofty halls, ascended ladders, and crossed a bridge over a yawning abyss.

"Every nightmare scene that I had ever dreamed of seemed to be realized. I shuddered several times, and was obliged to reason with myself to assure me of safety. Occasionally we sat down and rested upon some flat rock.

"Miss S., who has a great taste for costuming, wound her plaid shawl about her shoulders, turbaned her head with a green veil, swung her lamp upon a stick which she rested upon her shoulder, and then threw herself upon a rock in a most picturesque attitude. The guide took a lower seat, and his dirty tin cup, swung across his breast, looked like an ornament as the light struck it; his swarthy face was bright, and I wondered what our friends at home would give for a picture.

"One of these elliptical halls has its ceiling immensely far off, and of the deepest black, until our feeble little lights strike upon innumerable points, when it shines forth like a dark starlight night. The stars are faint, but they look so exceedingly like the heavens that one easily forgets that it is not reality.

"The guide asked us to be seated, while he went behind down a descent with the lights, to show us the creeping over of the shadows of the rocks, as if a dark cloud passed over the starlit vault. The black cloud crept on and on as the guide descended, until a fear came over us, and we cried out together to him to come back, not to leave us in total darkness. He begged that he might go still lower and show us entire darkness, but we would not permit it.

"Guin's Dome. What the name means I can't say. The guide tells you to pause in your scrambling over loose stones and muddy soil,—which you are always willing to do,—and to put your head through a circular aperture, and to look up while he lights the Bengal light; you obey, and look up upon columns of fluted, snowy whiteness; he tells you to look down, and you follow the same pillars down—up to heights which the light cannot climb, down to depths on which it cannot fall.

"You shudder as you look up, and you shudder as you look down. Indeed, the march of the cave is a series of shudders. Geologists may enjoy it, a large party may be merry in it; but if the 'underground railroad' of the slaves is of that kind, I should rather remain a slave than undertake a runaway trip!

"May 18. To-day we retraced our steps from Nashville to Chattanooga. It had been raining nearly all night, and we found, when not far from the latter place, that the streams were pouring down from the high lands upon the car-track, so that we came through rivers. When we dashed into the dark tunnel it was darker than ever from the darkness of the day, and it seemed to me that the darkness pressed upon me. I am sure I should keep my senses a very little while if I were confined in a dark place.

"As we came out of the tunnel, the water from the hill above dashed upon the cars; and although it did not break the panes of glass, it forced its way through and sprinkled us.

"The route, with all its terrors, is beautiful, and the trees are now much finer than they were ten days ago.

"May 27. There is this great difference between Niagara and other wonders of the world: that of it you get no idea from descriptions, or even from paintings. Of the 'Mammoth Cave' you have a conception from what you are told; of the Natural Bridge you get a really truthful impression from a picture. But cave and bridge are in still life. Niagara is all activity and change. No picture gives you the varying form of the water or the change of color; no description conveys to your mind the ceaseless roar. So, too, the ocean must be unrepresentable to those who have not looked upon it.

"The Natural Bridge stands out bold and high, just as you expect to see it. You are agreeably disappointed, however, on finding that you can go under the arch and be completely in the coolness of its shade while you look up for two hundred feet to the rocky black and white ceiling above.

"One of the prettiest peculiarities is the fringing above of the trees which hang over the edge, and looking out past the arch the wooded banks of the ravine are very pleasant. From above, one has the pain always attendant to me upon looking down into an abyss, but at the same time one obtains a better conception of the depth of the valley. It is well worth seeing, partly for itself, partly because it can be reached only by a ride among the hills of the Blue Ridge."